


You can help yourself, but don't take too much

by withdiamonds



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-04
Updated: 2009-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withdiamonds/pseuds/withdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>>Coming to the rescue of handsome nurse Jared Padalecki when someone tried to murder him wasn't the encounter Dr. Jensen Ackles had in mind when he first set eyes on him. Given that he recognized Jared's attackers, coupled with the chilling death threats, he knew the attack wasn't random. Although Jensen was an expert at covering up his tragic past, clues proved Jared's attack was connected to Jensen's former life. But as much as he wanted the sexy brunet in his bed, Jensen didn't want to admit he was connected in any way to who or what was endangering Jared's life.  Will either of them live long enough to pursue their new romance?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You can help yourself, but don't take too much

Dr. Jensen Ackles strode into the Emergency Room, ignoring the chaos that swirled around him, and gestured impatiently at the young resident currently trying to balance too many charts in one arm while attempting to inhale the contents of the coffee cup clutched desperately in his other hand.

"Chad. Get your ass over here and tell me what the hell is going on," Jensen snapped. He shrugged into his custom-tailored white lab coat, the one with his name embroidered across the front pocket in bold red thread, and deftly swiped the cup of coffee out of Chad's hand when he got within reach.

"Just how much sugar did you put in this, anyway?" he asked, raising one eyebrow at the sickeningly sweet taste.

"Three spoonfuls, which is how many I like in _my_ coffee," Chad retorted. Jensen's other eyebrow went up and he sipped the coffee, waiting. "Okay, right, so there's a motorcycle accident in Room 3 and a little girl who fell off a swing set in Room 4. The guy in Three is stable, just a couple of broken legs. Dr. Rosenbaum is in there now." Chad paused and readjusted the charts that were trying to spill out of his arms. He frowned at the top one. "The little girl is five years old and has a concussion and a broken wrist."

Jensen plucked the chart off the top of the pile and headed toward Room 4. He laughed as he heard the rest of Chad's charts hit the floor. "Let's go, Dr. Murray," he called over his shoulder.

The sound of Chad's muttered curses followed him into the cubicle.

There was already a nurse in there with the little girl; the tall, gorgeous dark-haired guy Jensen had noticed earlier that week. He took a quick peek at the nurse's nametag before turning to the pretty blonde girl lying on the ER gurney and her anxiously waiting parents.

 _Jared Padalecki, RN._

Jensen flipped through the chart in his hand. Ashley Brooks was five years old, with an unremarkable medical history. She'd already had a CT scan, which showed a mild concussion, and there was a bright pink cast on her left wrist.

Nurse Padalecki was in the process of trying to take Ashley's blood pressure, and she was not at all happy about that.

"It hurts," she whimpered. Her mother tucked her arm around her daughter and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"Is that really necessary?" her father asked uncertainly, looking worried.

Nurse Padalecki had just opened his mouth to answer when Jensen said, "Not really." Nurse Padalecki frowned.

"Hi, Ashley," Jensen said, ignoring everyone else. "My name is Jensen. I'll bet your head hurts, doesn't it?" He smiled at her, and she stopped whimpering, staring up at him with wide blue eyes. "What a pretty cast. Did you pick that color out all by yourself?" He peered down at her and winked. "It matches your hair!"

She giggled and her mother smiled gratefully.

"You know, it really doesn't hurt to get your blood pressure taken. It feels funny, but it doesn't hurt." He tilted his head to the side and smiled again. "Here, I'll show you." He gestured to the nurse. "Would you take my blood pressure for me, Nurse Jared?" he asked gravely.

Nurse Padalecki's lips twitched and Jensen thought he caught sight of a dimple or two trying to show itself. He held out his arm and Jared deftly wrapped the blood pressure cuff around it and quickly took his blood pressure.

Jensen smiled at Ashley. "See? It's not so bad. Do you think you could let Nurse Jared take yours?"

She looked up at him doubtfully for a moment, and then nodded solemnly.

"Good girl," he said. Nurse Padalecki came back to Ashley's side with a grateful look and Jensen moved away to talk to the girl's parents.

"Dr. Ackles," he said, extending his hand. "I'm the Chief of Trauma here at Heart of Mercy Hospital. I'll be overseeing your daughter's care."

As Jensen explained how a concussion worked to Ashley's parents, he watched Jared out of the corner of his eye. Nurse Padalecki was amazingly tall, with broad shoulders, and he obviously worked out religiously. Jensen liked that in a man. He had hazel eyes that slanted just slightly, an adorably pert nose, and a pink, kissable mouth.

"So," Jensen finished up, hoping he hadn't been rambling or anything, "We'll just be keeping her here overnight for observation. You're welcome to stay, they're very accommodating in Pediatrics."

As Ashley's parents thanked him for his time, the curtain across the doorway was pulled aside and Chad poked his head in. "Dr. Ackles, they need you in Room 3 right away." Jensen could hear Mike shouting something in the room next door, and he turned quickly back to the bed. "Bye, Ashley. Nurse Jared is going to take good care of you." Jensen caught sight of a soft grin on Jared's face as he left the treatment room. He smiled to himself. Maybe he could get Nurse Padalecki to take good care of _him_ sometime.

"Shut up," he said to a smirking Chad, before Chad could even open his mouth. Chad snickered. "Let's go see what Mike did to fuck up our motorcycle guy," Jensen said.

Mike Rosenbaum was the best orthopedic surgeon at Heart of Mercy Hospital, but that didn't mean he knew the first thing about sucking chest wounds, as it turned out.

"What the fuck, Jensen! Where the hell were you?" Mike demanded as Jensen pushed his way to the bedside. Mike had his hand covering a wound low over the guy's right ribcage, a look of panic in his eyes. There was a lot of blood, and the patient was struggling to breathe, his face white and his lips blue.

Jensen ignored Mike. He turned to the nurse who'd been helping Mike examine the patient's broken leg, and said calmly, "Sandy, I need a chest tube tray STAT. Get respiratory in here, and tell the desk to call x-ray for a portable chest film."

Sandy nodded and hurried out of the room. "Well, Dr. Murray. I'm happy to tell you that you're going to be inserting your first chest tube today."

"Awesome," Chad said eagerly.

"I live to serve," Jensen smiled as he elbowed Mike out of the way.

 

It was almost 8 o'clock when Jensen was finally able to leave the hospital. Besides Ashley and her flying leap off the swings, and the motorcycle guy, they'd had three more trauma patients come into the ER that afternoon. Jensen was glad to leave them all in the capable hands of his partner, Tom, and head on home. He had hopes of a quiet dinner of leftovers and lots of alcohol.

"Why don't I get to go home," Chad whined as Jensen patted his pockets to make sure he had his cell phone, beeper, and car keys with him.

"Because you're a resident, dumbass. You can go home when you're an attending." Jensen smiled wickedly at Chad. "Dr. Welling will take good care of you, don't worry."

Chad snorted. "You mean he'll make sure I don't get any sleep tonight."

"See, you're learning. You'll be a real doctor before you know it." With that parting shot, Jensen headed for his car.

It was mid-October and the days were getting shorter, the sun setting earlier. The parking garage was already dark, dimly lit shadows bleeding out from the corners. Just as Jensen was about to push his key remote to unlock his car, he heard something, kind of a grunting noise, followed by what sounded like an exclamation of distress.

He moved quickly but quietly around the row of cars where he was parked, peering cautiously between a black Mercedes and a silver BMW. What he saw made him throw caution to the wind and rush forward, shouting, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Hey, stop!"

The two men wearing ski masks actually did stop what they were doing, which appeared to be trying to load Nurse Jared Padalecki's body into a big, black SUV. They stood frozen where they were, staring at him, and the whole stupid tableau reminded Jensen of that really creepy movie he'd watched the other night, the one with Shia LeBoef and the bank robbery.

One of the men was shorter than the other, with long brown hair hanging out of the bottom of his ski mask. The taller guy appeared to be favoring his left arm.

And then time started up again and Jensen mostly thought _oh, shit_ because they were going to kill him, too, and where was the damn security guard when you needed him?

The two men looked at each other and back at Jensen, and some kind of silent communication passed between them, although how they could communicate non-verbally while wearing ski masks was beyond Jensen. Then they dropped Jared's body, _not his body, no, please don't let him be dead,_ scrambled into the SUV, and peeled out of the garage, the sound of their squealing tires echoing around the half-empty cement structure.

Jensen ignored the escaping attackers in favor of throwing himself to his knees next to Jared and reaching for his neck, praying for a pulse.

And then he felt one under his fingers, slow and steady and strong. He closed his eyes in relief, his hand trembling on the warm skin of Jared's neck.

"Jared," he said, pushing silky brown hair away from Jared's eyes. "Jared, can you hear me?"

Jared moaned and Jensen looked frantically around the parking garage for help. He struggled to get his phone out of his pocket, where it seemed to be caught on something, at the same time as he started to assess Jared's condition. Whatever was holding on so desperately to his cell phone finally gave up just as a hospital security guard came running around the row of parked cars, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Jared sprawled out on the ground, Jensen kneeling next to him.

"Quick," Jensen snapped. "This man's been attacked. I need a gurney from the ER RIGHT THE FUCK NOW," he yelled, as the guy just stood there gaping at him.

"Shit! Right, okay, Doc," the guy said, dashing off, crossing the sweeping driveway that connected the hospital with the garage at a run.

Jensen hit 911 on his phone, and then hesitated. His finger hovered over "send" as he argued with himself. He didn't want to get the cops involved, but he didn’t see how he could avoid it without looking suspicious. He sighed and pressed the button.

After all, he thought, as he tried to examine the gash behind Jared's ear while being careful not to move his head and neck, he didn't have to tell anybody that he'd recognized the two men who had attacked the charming and handsome Nurse Padalecki.

Fucking Christian Kane.

 

The neurosurgeon on call, Dr. Ferris, thought Jared would be fine, although she wanted to keep him overnight for observation.

"There's no skull fracture, no spinal injury," she told Jensen as they stood side-by-side studying Jared's head and neck x-rays. "I don't even think I need to do an MRI. A few stitches, which Dr. Murray is putting in now, and he should be fine." She cocked her head and looked at Jensen with thinly veiled interest. "Really, Jensen. So you can go on home, Nurse Padalecki is in excellent hands."

"Right," Jensen said distractedly, staring at Jared's head films. "If you're sure…."

Samantha snorted. "I'll let that go, Jensen, and assume you didn't mean it as an insult. I'm sure. Now, if you'll excuse me," she added briskly, "I have patients who actually need me." She headed back out into the busy ER.

"Right." It was Jensen's turn to snort. Dr. Ferris was a neurosurgeon, and it was after 9 o'clock on a Saturday night. She was totally going out to dinner. She didn't fool Jensen for a second.

Jensen walked back into Room 5 just as Chad was clearing away the used suture tray.

The interest with which Chad stared at him was nowhere close to thinly veiled. Not that Chad was capable of subtle, much less discreet, under the best of circumstances. "Shut up, Dr. Murray," Jensen said mildly. He seemed to say that a lot when it came to Chad.

Chad smirked as he shoved the tray down to the far end of the counter. That was his version of cleaning up: leave it for the nurses to do. That was not going to serve him well in the future, but Jensen would leave that for Chad to discover for himself. Speaking of nurses, Jensen swung his gaze over to Jared. He was lying on the gurney with his eyes closed, dark circles emphasizing his pallor. There were lines of pain around his mouth and a tightness around his eyes which practically screamed _headache._ Jensen grimaced in sympathy. He cleared his throat.

"Jared." Jared opened his eyes and blinked at him. "Hey, dude, how's the head?" Stupid question, really, but it was as good a conversation starter as any.

Jared raised a shaking hand to his forehead and moaned. "I feel like I got hit over the head with a brick." He squinted at Jensen. "It wasn't really a brick, was it?"

"Hell if I know what they hit you with, dude." Jensen stopped. He was so not getting into details about what happened to Jared's head. He was totally playing dumb about everything.

"Did you see them?" Jared asked.

Completely dumb. "Well, I saw two guys trying to stuff your gigantic body into an SUV, but I didn't see them hit you." Maybe it wasn't a good idea to comment of Jared's size, either. After all, they'd just met. On the one hand, what a way to meet the apparent man of his dreams. On the other hand, maybe rescuing him from certain death would make a good first impression. That could work to Jensen's advantage in the seduction department.

God, was he an asshole, or what? He couldn't help it, Jared stirred feelings in him, feelings that could only be described as protective lust. Jensen might be kind of screwed. Keeping secrets from someone you wanted to both protect and get into bed sounded like a recipe for disaster.

"So," Jared was saying. "Did you – why did they – what - how come I not dead or kidnapped?" he finally got out.

Jensen shrugged. "I guess they didn't want any witnesses, so when they saw me, they ran off." He made an effort to meet Jared's eyes. It was, after all, the truth. He didn't have to mention that when they saw him, they actually recognized him and that's probably why they took off.

Actually, Jensen realized, that had been pretty lucky, and for the first time, he wondered just why Chris and Steve had run, instead of killing Jared and him both.

Jared looked at him suspiciously, like he knew there was more to the story, but he seemed let it go, probably out of sheer exhaustion. "I guess I can get out of here. Dr. Ferris said I could go home." He struggled to sit up and Jensen moved forward to grab hold of his arm and help him swing around until his was sitting on the edge of the gurney, looking decidedly green around the gills. "Shit, that's the mother of all head rushes," Jared gasped, closing his eyes and swaying dangerously. Jensen was happy not to let go of his arm.

"Can I call someone for you? Someone to come take you home? Wife? Girlfriend? Mother?" Might as well test the waters. "Boyfriend?"

Jared shook his head, and then winced. "Shit," he moaned, clutching his bangs in both hands and managing to look more pathetic than someone his size had any right to. "No," he managed. "I live alone."

"Well, then, can I offer you a lift home?" Jensen asked.

"Dude, you already saved my life," Jared said. "You don't need to play chauffeur, too." Then he blushed, and the pink tint of his cheeks made him look a little less like death warmed over. "I mean, no thank you, Dr. Ackles. I can call a cab."

It was almost too adorable for words. "Hey, none of that 'Doctor' stuff. 'Jensen' is fine." He smiled encouragingly at Jared. "Or, you know, 'dude' works, too. That's what Dr. Murray calls me." Jared struggled to heave himself to his feet. Jensen tucked a hand under Jared's elbow and tugged. Jared groaned pitifully, but managed to achieve a standing position. Jensen took a moment to appreciate the firmly muscled shoulders under Jared's scrubs.

The curtain to the treatment room opened and a uniformed police officer stuck her head in. "Mr. Padalecki? I need to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind." The _even if you do mind_ was unspoken, but clearly implied.

"Can't it wait?" Jensen bristled. "This man has suffered a serious head injury." He moved to put himself between Jared and the officer, scowling.

The cop raised polite eyebrows as she looked at Jared, who, although he was clutching desperately at the edge of the gurney, was obviously on his feet and not in the least incapacitated.

"It's fine, dude," Jared said. He turned to the cop. "Will it take long? I may need to sit back down," he said, smiling in a very charming, self-deprecating way.

The cop seemed surprised to find herself smiling back. "No, sir, just a couple of questions for right now. Detective – " she consulted the notebook in her hand. "Detective Collins will be in touch later. He's the detective in charge of the case."

"The case? That sounds pretty serious." Jared had stopped smiling. "I thought I was just being mugged." He looked scared, and Jensen found himself silently cursing Chris Kane for putting that expression on such a pretty face.

"It looks to us like an attempted abduction, sir," Officer – Jensen peered near-sightedly at the name on her badge – Cassidy said. "Now, what can you tell me about what happened?"

"Not much, really. I was walking to my car, and then someone or something hit me on the back of the head. When I woke up I was on the ground and Dr. Ackles –" he broke off to point at Jensen, smiling gratefully at him, "- was there, yelling at someone about a gurney."

Officer Cassidy stared at him. "That's it?"

Jared nodded. "That's it. Sorry," he added.

"You didn't recognize them?" she asked.

"No, I didn't recognize them. They were wearing ski masks," Jared replied.

"And you don't have any idea why someone would want to kidnap you, Mr. Padalecki?" Officer Cassidy said, watching Jared closely.

Jensen thought that was a very good question. How in the hell was Jared mixed up with Christian Kane?

"No, I'm sorry, I don't." Jared was beginning to look a little gray, and his mouth was tight with pain.

"Okay, are we about done here? As Mr. Padalecki's doctor, I must insist that he be allowed to go home and rest," Jensen said firmly.

Officer Cassidy narrowed her eyes at him, looking at the name on his lab coat. "Dr. Ackles? So you're the one who interrupted the kidnapping?" She flipped to a new page in her notebook. "Tell me what happened."

"I heard a noise as I was walking to my car. Two guys in ski masks were trying to shove Jared – Nurse Padalecki – into a black SUV. I yelled, they dropped him and ran, I called 911." He shrugged. "I didn't recognize them, and I didn't get the license number of the SUV."

"Well, that's helpful," Officer Cassidy said.

"I'm sorry," Jensen said as sincerely as he could manage it. "That's all I can tell you."

"Fine." She flipped her notebook shut. "We'll be in touch." She turned to Jared. "Take care of yourself, Mr. Padalecki."

They both nodded at her, although Jared quickly realized his mistake, judging by the way he grimaced and clutched at his head. When she was gone, Jensen took Jared's elbow again and said, "Let's get out of here, dude."

As he helped Jared shuffle out the ER door, Jensen said, "Wait here," and pointed to one of the benches that lined the sidewalk. They were mostly filled with Housekeeping and Nursing personnel taking a smoke break. "I'll go get my car."

"Dr. Ackles – I mean, dude – I can walk. And I'm not going to have flashbacks if I have to go into the scary parking garage so soon after my traumatic experience." His voice was shaky in spite of his bravado and Jensen chose to ignore his protests completely.

"Sit," he said firmly. "Doctor's orders." He had a sudden vision of him and Jared playing "doctor" in his bedroom and he quickly turned on his heel to hide his lust-induced blush. He hurried to the garage, leaving Jared to gingerly seat himself on a bench next to a middle-aged woman with iron gray hair that probably matched her iron gray lungs, if the way she was sucking on her cigarette was any indication.

The cops were just finishing up in the parking garage, gathering evidence of Jared's attempted kidnapping and probable eventual murder. Not that there would be a lot of evidence to gather, Jensen knew.

Christian Kane was more careful than that.

Dammit. Jensen shook his head. He thought he'd left all this shit behind him in Dallas. That part of his life was over, over for good, and he vowed he wasn't going to let it touch Jared.

He sighed as he started his car. He was going to have to give this some careful consideration, he thought, as he pulled up alongside Jared, who looked a little green around the gills again, probably from the haze of cigarette smoke that surrounded the bench he was sitting on. It practically hid him from view.

Jared scowled at Jensen's attempt to help him up off the bench and into Jensen's Mercedes, but Jensen just ignored him.

"Head injury," he said succinctly, giving Jared a gentle push into the passenger's seat. Jared grimaced but didn't say anything.

"So," Jensen said brightly, getting settled behind the wheel. "Where do you live?"

Getting Jared out of the car once they'd pulled into his driveway proved to be a lot more problematic than getting him into it. For one thing, he'd dozed off, in spite of Jensen's best efforts to keep him awake.

"Head injury," Jensen had reiterated, when Jared whined "lemmealone" every time Jensen poked him in the side.

"Fuck off," Jared mumbled now, batting ineffectually at Jensen's hand on his shoulder and his cheerful, "Come on, Nurse Padalecki. Let's go."

Also, Jared was one tall son of a bitch, and while Jensen's car was fabulous in many ways, it wasn't all that conducive to tall freaks of nature trying to fold and unfold themselves in and out of it.

Jensen tugged on Jared's arm and hoped he would be able to catch him when he tumbled out of the car onto his already injured head.

Finally, Jensen had Jared propped up against the side of the car while they both caught their breath. "Remind me never to get you drunk enough that I have to carry your ass to bed," he said, then bit his lip. He and the charming Nurse Padalecki had only just met today, and Jensen was assuming an awful lot here.

But Jared just snorted weakly and said, "I don’t see you carrying me now, Dr. Ackles."

Deciding not to accept the implicit challenge, Jensen pushed and prodded instead of carrying, and eventually got Jared in the front door of his apartment. It was homey and simply furnished, and apparently full of dogs.

Ignoring Jared's protests, Jensen maneuvered him towards what appeared to be the only bedroom and parked him on the edge of the bed. The protests increased in volume when Jensen slipped Jared's shoes off and started tugging at his belt buckle.

"I'm only helping you get ready for bed," Jensen said patiently. Jared pawed at him, trying to get him to relinquish control of his zipper. "Jared, trust me. I'm a doctor," he smiled.

"Weak, Ackles," Jared muttered. He seemed to give in all at once, allowing Jensen to strip him down to boxers and t-shirt and haul him to his feet again. Jensen pointed him towards the bathroom.

When he emerged after much noisy splashing and running of water, Jensen guided him effortlessly into bed, pulling the covers back and gesturing invitingly. "After you, Nurse Padalecki."

Jared gave a faint laugh. "Why, Dr. Ackles. Are you trying to seduce me?"

Jensen tucked the covers around Jared's shoulders, feeling strangely tender and protective. "Not tonight. Get some sleep." He barely resisted the urge to plant a chaste kiss on Jared's forehead. Jared blinked up at him sleepily, looking all of seven years old.

Back in the living room, Jensen discovered the house full of dogs actually consisted of only two, but they were big enough that he could be excused for thinking there were more of them. He let them out, fed them when they came back in, and patted them both on the head when they looked up at him expectantly. They obviously thought it was playtime.

"It's bedtime," Jensen said repressively, and the dogs looked disappointed for a moment, before turning tail and jostling each other all the way down the hall to Jared's bedroom. Jensen shrugged and looked at the couch.

He sighed and started hunting for pillows and a blanket.

It turned out to be a long night. He set the alarm on his iPhone to ring every hour, and each time it went off, he startled awake, not having any idea where the hell he was. Once, he woke up wondering if he'd been in a terrible accident and was now paralyzed, only to find the smaller of the two dogs draped across his legs, pinning him to the couch.

Jensen fought his way free, while the dog stared at him dispassionately, and went in to wake Jared and check on his level of consciousness. "Head injury," he said automatically when Jared protested weakly. "Gotta check every hour, man. You know that."

The dog, whose name was Sadie, if the tag on her collar was to be believed, refused to give up the couch, but seemed perfectly willing to share it with Jensen, so he wedged himself between her and the overstuffed cushions and fell into a fitful sleep, trying to breath around the ruff of dog fur in his face.

Morning, when it came at long last, shone in through the living room window a lot brighter than Jensen thought was necessary. He felt hung over from lack of sleep, and he hoped Jared had a coffee maker with easy to follow instructions. He didn't feel up to anything complicated.

"Hey," Jared said, poking his head out from the kitchen, startling Jensen into clutching at his chest.

"Shit, you scared the crap out of me, dude." Jensen narrowed his eyes. Jared had donned a pair of sweatpants, which was disappointing, but his hair fell in his eyes in a way that Jensen could only describe as adorable. "What are you doing up?"

"I feel much better, and I think I got more sleep than you did, even if you did keep waking me up," Jared said. His smile was soft and warm. "Thank you. You didn't have to stay and do that."

Jensen yawned, stretching his arms over his head. When he lowered them, he saw Jared watching him, looking almost shy. Jensen shrugged. "I wasn't gonna leave you alone all night to lapse into a coma and die," he said, the words coming out more sharply than he'd intended them. He was _not_ responsible for Jared's current condition just because he knew who had attacked him. He quickly smiled. "And if I hadn't stayed, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of sleeping with Sadie." Jensen stood up and looked hopefully into the kitchen behind Jared. "Is there coffee?"

Jared nodded. "It's almost done." He inclined his head. "Come on, I'll make you breakfast. It's the least I can do."

Jensen smiled groggily. "Damn straight."

 

Dr. Ferris told Jared that he needed to stay home from work for the rest of the week, at least, and he was already scheduled off on the upcoming weekend, so Jensen took advantage of all that free time to hang out at Jared's apartment as much as he could.

In spite of a lingering residual headache, brought on by two assholes trying to kidnap and kill him, Jared seemed pretty upbeat. Jensen suspected that Jared was mostly cheerful by nature, and while Jensen usually looked askance at those types of people, he found himself enjoying Jared's company even more than he thought he would.

They hadn't gotten past a lot of mutual flirting and sexy innuendo, but Jensen was holding out hope that it wouldn't be long now before he could have his wicked way with the delectable Nurse Padalecki. The signals he'd been receiving from Jared pointed in that direction, anyway.

Jared went back to work on Monday. Tom was seeing any trauma patients that happened to come into the ER, since Jensen had a full OR schedule that day. Then he had to make rounds, and the day was topped off with a meeting of the medical staff Bylaws Committee. They met every other week and it was so excruciatingly boring that most weeks Jensen spent the time trying to work out whatever method of offing himself would bring about the quickest and most painless death.

In other words, Jensen didn't see Jared at all on Monday. They had plans for dinner though. Jared had offered to cook for him, and Jensen knew what that meant in the dating code. He stood a good chance of getting laid tonight.

Or at least kissed. They hadn't actually gotten that far yet. Jensen wasn't at all sure what was holding them back, but for some reason, it seemed important not to rush things.

After leaving the hospital, he made a brief stop at his own house before going over to Jared's. He watered his one lonely plant, a philodendron that never held it against him when he neglected it shamefully, which was the only reason he put up with it, and checked his mail.

Right there on the top of the pile of bills and enough flyers and catalogues to deforest at least an acre of woods, was a small envelope with Jensen's name and address in neat block letters. He recognized the handwriting instantly.

Christian.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up and Jensen instinctively shot a glance behind him at the kitchen window. His back yard was empty, and he moved quickly and silently through to the living room, staying away from the large picture window that looked out onto the street. He peered outside, but everything seemed quiet and deserted, a typical peaceful mid-afternoon in a neighborhood of professionals who were hardly ever home.

He knew he shouldn't touch the envelope, shouldn't compromise evidence, but he didn’t care. The combination of fear and anger he felt made his hands shake, and he needed two tries to get the envelope open.

JENSEN: YOU LUCKED OUT THE OTHER DAY, DUDE, YOU AND YOUR LITTLE NURSE FRIEND. I'D MIND MY OWN BUSINESS IF I WERE YOU, UNLESS YOU WANT TO END UP DEAD LIKE RILEY.

Jensen managed a small eye-roll at the _little nurse_ part – Jared was pretty much the opposite of little – but mostly he just felt the grief of Riley's death wash over him, as fresh as if it had happened yesterday instead of five years ago.

As he stood there trembling, trying to get hold of himself, his cell phone rang.

It was Jared.

"Hello?" His voice surprised him by being a lot steadier than he expected.

"Oh, thank God," Jared gasped. Then, "Jensen, man, something's – I mean, I got this letter, it was in the mail today, and – dude, it's a freakin' death threat!" He sounded more indignant than scared, and Jensen had to smile, just a little.

Shit. Jensen rubbed a hand across his forehead and tried to think. What in the hell was going on? What did Kane want with Jared? It wasn't as if Jensen even knew Jared until _after_ the attack in the parking garage.

Fuck. Jensen was going to have to contact Chris. Shit, damn, fuck. That was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, but he needed to find out why Chris was threatening Jared. Calling Chris was the only way he could think of to do that.

Unless Jared knew. Maybe he knew but didn't know that he knew? There had to be _something_.

"Okay, Jared, calm down. What does the letter say? Can you read it to me?"

Jared took a deep breath. "Yes, I can read it to you. Someone is threatening to kill me, not take away my ability to read," he snapped. There was a pause, and then Jared said, "Sorry. I know it's not your fault. I'm just freaked out, because I've never gotten a death threat before!" He was practically shouting there at the end, and Jensen winced. He could hardly blame him.

"Jared…"

"I'm good, I'm good." Another deep breath. "Padalecki. You were lucky the other night. Next time you won't be. You know what we want. We'll be in touch. Keep your mouth shut." He read the letter in an oddly flat voice, but Jensen could hear his underlying tension and confusion.

"You know what they want?" Jensen repeated. "What does that mean? What do they want?"

"'Scripts," Jared said simply. Jensen waited for more, but apparently there wasn't any.

Oh, fuck. Jensen mentally kicked himself for being the least bit surprised. Of course that's what they wanted.

 

 _Dallas, 2004_

 _Jensen frowns as he paws impatiently through the piles of paper on his desk. Where in the hell is his prescription pad? It should be right here. He just used it yesterday to write Steve a script for Claritin. His allergies have been acting up again, and Chris had asked Jensen if he minded doing Steve a favor. Jensen brought the pad home from the hospital so he can write the 'script for Steve when he comes over for pizza and beer later._

 _Jensen doesn't mind at all. Steve's a good friend, and the sight of his red eyes and his constant sneezing were enough to have him flipping open the pad and reaching for a pen._

 _"Thanks, baby," Chris husks out against the skin behind Jensen's ear, and Jensen shivers._

 _"Oh, god, get a room. I'm feeling too shitty to have to watch this," Steve groans._

 _"Here's an idea, asshole," Chris says. "Why don't you get a room. Like, in your own apartment." He nuzzles Jensen's ear again, then grins at Steve. "Go fill that," he says, waving at the piece of paper in Steve's hand. "And go home and get some sleep and leave us in peace."_

 _"Yeah, yeah," Steve says, flipping Chris off as he grabs his jacket off the back of the couch. "I'm going."_

 _By that time, Chris has Jensen flat on his back, pinned to the couch under him, kissing him stupid, and Jensen is barely aware of Steve's exit._

 _That was last night, and now Jensen's prescription pad is nowhere to be found. It's not like he doesn't have plenty more, he has a whole box of them in his office at the hospital, but it was right there on the desk, and he doesn’t like the idea of it floating around somewhere and him not knowing where it is._

 _And then the next week, it happens again. He brings home another pad, this time because Chris needs something stronger than Tylenol for his occasional migraines. It had been on his desk, and it only had a few slips missing, and now it's just…gone. Jensen briefly considers early onset Alzheimer's, then shrugs and decides maybe he's just working too hard. His hours at the hospital are brutal and he pretty much walks around in an exhausted fog most of the time._

 _He doesn't say anything about it either time, partly because he forgets about it and partly because he can't imagine how he could be so careless twice. But he decides maybe his days of writing prescriptions for his friends are over. It's not illegal, or even unethical, to do it. But the missing pads are making him uncomfortable, and so when Riley says he's getting a cold sore and can Jensen write him something for it, Jensen says no._

 _"Sorry, man."_

 _Riley just shrugs. "No biggie. It's not fatal. Just ugly as fuck." He grins at Jensen. "And I guess it means that blow job's gonna have to wait."_

 _Jensen splutters indignantly and Chris says, "Hey, no one blows Jenny but me."_

 _If Steve is Chris's best friend, Riley is Jensen's. The four of them are pretty tight, although Jensen's schedule has a tendency to make him the odd man out in their little group more than he likes._

 _So he misses their weekly Friday night at the bar because he's stuck at the hospital. He finally finishes his last chart around ten o'clock. As he locks his office door behind him, he decides he's too tired to join them, although he knows they'll be there for hours still. He heads for home instead._

 _Jensen looks down at the keys in his hand before he shoves them in his pocket. He'd lost them on Wednesday, and he still can't figure out where they were. Chris had helped him look for them, searching the whole house top to bottom, with no luck._

 _And then Thursday, there they'd been, right there under the couch cushion where he'd already looked a dozen times. Chris had just laughed at him. "Always knew you were blind as a bat, Jenny."_

 _Chris doesn't get home until the early hours of the morning, and he falls into bed smelling of smoke and whiskey. He sleeps like the dead until mid-afternoon, dragging himself to the shower without a word to Jensen._

 _It's Jensen's weekend off, and he has water and Advil and some toast waiting for Chris when he emerges from their bedroom fully dressed. Chris looks at him wordlessly, something hidden and shadowy in his eyes, then takes the Advil and swallows them dry._

 _"Gotta go," he says, not meeting Jensen's eyes again as he shoves his arms into his jacket and grabs the keys to his truck off the kitchen counter._

 _Jensen stares after him, a protest dying on his lips. "Chris? Chris! What –"_

 _But Christian was gone._

 

That was the last time Jensen had seen Chris, until the other night in the garage.

Five years ago, Chris and Steve had taken Jensen's prescription pads and sold them on the street, for what had apparently been a lot of money. They had copied his office key, and the night before Christian disappeared, snuck into Jensen's office and taken the whole box.

Riley had gotten cold feet at the last minute and Steve had shot and killed him.

Jensen still had trouble with that sentence. Steve, his friend Steve, had turned out to be a cold-blooded killer.

Jensen had moved numbly on with his life, walking through the legal aftermath in a haze of grief and betrayal.

Then he'd moved to Pittsburgh to start over, leaving, he thought, the nightmare behind.

But now Christian was back.

"Fuck," Jensen said out loud.

"Some guy called me about a couple of weeks ago, said I didn't know him, but he wanted me to supply him with prescription forms. You know we have blank ones in the ER, and he told me he wanted a steady supply." There's a pause, and then Jared says, "I told him to go fuck himself."

"And he tried to abduct you in the parking garage," Jensen said flatly

"Apparently. Can you come over?" Jared said, and Jensen couldn't have said no if his life depended on it. Which it actually might, now that he thought about it.

"I'll be right there."

Chris was not going to get away with this. He and Steve had disappeared, had never been brought to justice, and Jensen vowed that for damn sure wasn't going to happen again.

 

Jared was understandably freaked out when Jensen arrived at his apartment. Jensen might have gone through this shit before, but Jared was new to this whole extortion/theft gig. No one had ever sent him death threats before, let alone tried to kidnap him.

"What the fuck, Jensen?" he said as he flung open his front door. "I mean, what the fuck?" He was pale, and he was clutching the threatening letter in his hand. Jensen peered at it upside-down.

Oh, yeah, that was Chris's handwriting, all right.

"Um, Jared, you shouldn't be handling that." He pointed at the letter and Jared raised his eyebrows at him, confused. "It's evidence." Jared still looked blank. "The cops will need to look at that, see if they can get any prints off it, maybe some DNA off the envelope."

"Oh, shit, right," Jared said. "I'm an idiot." He put the letter down, flapping his hands at the stack of mail still sitting on his kitchen counter. "It was right there on top! Oh," he said again. "I guess I should call the cops, huh. What was the name of the detective in charge of the case?"

"Collins, I think," Jensen said. "Detective Misha Collins."

Once Jensen was able to get past the almost unnatural blueness of Detective Collins' eyes, the guy seemed to be pretty sensible about the whole thing. Meaning, he focused completely on Jared and almost ignored Jensen.

That was just how Jensen wanted it.

After the cops left, taking the offending death threat with them, Jared and Jensen were left standing there in Jared's living room, looking at each other. Jared took a shaky breath and said, "This is so weird, man. I've never been threatened with death before. I don't know what the hell to do with myself." He looked at Jensen with dark eyes.

Jensen looked steadily back at him, but his hands were trembling. There was something about seeing Jared so vulnerable and uncertain that filled him with rage at Chris. He wanted to guard and protect Jared, to keep him safe from people and things that had no business anywhere near him.

"C'mere," Jensen growled and Jared moved so quickly that Jensen realized he'd been holding himself back with an effort.

They came together with a desperation born of fear and anger, and Jared's lips were bruising on Jensen's. Jensen molded himself to Jared's body, reveling in his physical strength and size.

Their kiss was wet and open-mouthed, a take-no-prisoners kiss, the kind Jensen liked best. Jared pulled back and Jensen followed his mouth, not even caring at the whimper that escaped him at the loss.

"Shh," Jared whispered, and he lowered his face and touched their foreheads together. His breathing was still shaky, but Jensen hoped that now it was for a reason other than fear. He felt that weird urge to keep Jared safe again, and wondered how he could reconcile that with his refusal to acknowledge the dark secrets in his past.

They found themselves on the couch, with Jensen pushing Jared back, sprawling on top of him, grinding against him. Jared groaned, and it was the hottest thing Jensen had ever heard.

"Shit," Jared muttered, his tongue in Jensen's ear. "What the hell have we been waiting for?"

"You got me," Jensen moaned in reply.

"Yeah, I do," Jared whispered, and Jensen grinned happily at the cheesiness of it all.

"I'm glad we decided not to wait any longer," Jensen said, running his hands over Jared's chest encouragingly. "Take this shirt off."

"Yes, Doctor," Jared smirked as he sat up halfway and wriggled out of his shirt.

"Shit, don't even go there, not tonight, anyway. I'm already not gonna last more than a minute," Jensen panted, thumbing Jared's nipples.

"Does that get you hot, Doctor?" Jared gasped as Jensen lowered his head and sucked a nipple into his mouth. "I'm not gonna wear a nurse's uniform, so don't think it."

Jensen almost blacked out at the thought of Jared in a short white skirt, white stockings covering those legs that went on for days, and a little white nurses cap on his head.

"Hey," Jared nudged him with an elbow. "Pay attention. Don't stop."

"Oh, I'm not stopping, don't you worry about that," Jensen said with a growl. "By the time I'm finished with you, you won't be able to remember your name, Nurse Padalecki." His hands went to Jared's belt, and Jared's hips rose to meet them.

"Oh, you're on," Jared said.

The next fifteen minutes were a fast blur of humping, kissing, biting, rubbing, and coming. Jensen wasn't sure there had been a lot of breathing involved, so he was content to lie there after, plastered to Jared from head to toe, and try to drag in some much needed air.

"That was awesome," Jared said. Jensen nodded his agreement.

Jared tightened his arms around Jensen's waist. "Stay?"

"Of course," Jensen said.

 

When he let himself into his house in the early hours of the morning, Jensen deliberately left his cell phone in the kitchen while he fell into bed to catch another couple of hours sleep. He wasn't going to try and contact Chris. That would just complicate things. The cops would handle it and Chris and Steve would go away and Jared would be safe. Jensen could pretend that part of his life had never happened, and Jared would never know.

After almost an hour of tossing and turning, Jensen knew he couldn't do it. He needed to try. If he had to, he'd get Chris the 'scripts himself, if Chris would promise to leave Jared alone.

He swallowed. He didn't want to go back there, didn't want to risk his career, his freedom, his life. He'd only known Jared for a little over a week, for Christ's sake. He should just stay out of it, like Chris said.

Jensen swung his legs out of bed and padded to the kitchen to retrieve his phone. It had been five years. Surely Chris had a new cell, new number, by now. He took a deep breath and quickly punched in the old number, not really surprised at how easily his fingers recalled it.

The call connected, but there was only a waiting silence on the other end.

"Christian?" Jensen said tentatively.

Jensen heard a muffled grunt, which he decided to take for affirmation. Before he could chicken out, he said, "Chris, leave Jared alone. I'll get your 'scripts for you."

Chris laughed softly. "Oh, Jen, I don't think so. Your pretty boyfriend needs to learn to do what he's told."

"Chris, please," Jensen said hoarsely. "Just, why involve him?"

"He was just there, baby. Right place, right time. But now….We had to run, Jen, Steve and I did. And we lost everything, thanks to you and that stupid fuck, Riley," Chris growled. "So now you and your pretty nurse can go fuck yourselves."

"Chris –" But he was gone. Shit. Jensen carefully placed his phone on the kitchen table and stared at it.

He had no idea what to do now.

 

Jensen could hear Chad calling after him as he ducked into Room 5 to examine an elderly man who had fallen off a ladder and broken his arm. How he'd been lucky enough to only break his arm and not his grizzled neck, Jensen couldn't fathom. He was waiting for Jensen to check him over one more time before he discharged him.

"Hey, dude, wait up. Jensen!" Chad skidded to a halt inside the doorway. Or, curtain-way. The treatment rooms in the ER weren't really rooms, they were cubicles, surrounded by curtains and the occasional glass partition. Chad grasped the edge of the curtain, apparently in an attempt to not go caroming into the cart poor old Mr. Benson was lying on.

"Uh, I mean, Dr. Ackles. Can I see you for a moment, please?"

"I'm a little busy at the moment, Dr. Murray," Jensen said. He figured Chad wanted to talk about what happened the other night, and Jensen would really rather not.

"Jared said he got a death threat?" Chad blurted out, like he wasn’t' sure if Jared was telling the truth or not.

Jensen glanced at Mr. Benson, but the old guy didn't seem to be paying them any attention at all. He looked like he was taking the opportunity to enjoy a short nap. Jensen frowned at Chad, and then nodded. "Yeah, he did."

Chad's eyes widened like he thought that was the coolest thing he'd ever heard.

"This isn't _CSI, Miami_ , Chad. It's not a game," Jensen snapped.

Someone yanked the curtains out of Chad's hand and a voice said, "No, dude, it's not." Jared towered over Chad, glowering down at him. Chad wasn't noticeably abashed.

"Hey, Jared." He looked between Jared and Jensen and a slow smirk spread over his face. Jensen was pretty sure he knew why, as he was hyper-aware of the small dark bruise on the side of his neck under his ear. He felt the tips of his ears burn.

Chad continued to smirk. It made his eyes even squintier than usual.

"Was there something you needed that was actually important, Dr. Murray?" he asked, putting as much _I am the Chief Trauma Surgeon and you're Just An Intern_ into his voice as he could. Once again, Chad seemed impervious.

"Nope. I'll catch you later," he said, and he twitched the curtain closed behind him as he left.

Jensen was left to stare uncomfortably at Jared, while Jared stood and smiled happily at him. It was impossible not to respond to that smile, however, and Jensen found himself returning it in full measure.

"That's better," Jared said. He looked a little too smug for Jensen's liking, and Jensen narrowed his eyes at him.

"Nurse Padalecki, may I remind you this is a professional –"

"You want to play doctor? Did you want to _examine_ me, Dr. Ackles?" His voice dropped to a whisper, but Jensen heard every word, and it made the heat crawl up his face. "Do you want me to take my clothes off?"

Jensen choked, and he heard an answering snort of laughter from the old guy on the gurney.

"Listen fellas, this is very entertaining, but my wife is waiting to take me home so she can say 'I told you to stay off that ladder' a few more times. I love her and I hate to deprive her of her fun." He smiled beatifically at them both.

Jensen cleared his throat with as much dignity as he could muster. "I'll just finish filling out your discharge summary, Mr. Benson, and then you're free to go. Just rest for a few days, keep an eye on that arm, and," he grinned, "Stay off that ladder."

Jared chuckled and together they got the hell out of Room 5.

Where they found Officer Cassidy and Detective Collins waiting for them.

"Dr. Ackles. May we speak to you for a moment?" Detective Collins gestured to an empty treatment room. "You, too, Mr. Padalecki."

The four of them filed into Room 7, and Officer Cassidy pulled the curtain shut behind them. Jensen took a moment to appreciate how her uniform hugged the curves of her body before Jared's possessive glare caught his attention.

Jensen smiled happily to himself.

"Dr. Ackles," said Detective Collins, "Would you please take a look at some pictures for us?" He shoved a sheaf of photographs under Jensen's nose. "Do you recognize any of these men?"

Jensen slowly shuffled through the photos, trying not to give anything away when he got to pictures of Chris and Steve. He finally looked up, and with his best poker face, said, "No, I'm afraid not."

Jensen had never been the smoothest liar in the world, but the last five years had given him more practice at it than he'd ever wanted. He thought he'd pulled it off pretty well, but Detective Collins studied him thoughtfully, his laser blue eyes making Jensen shift uncomfortably.

"I see." Collins reached out for the photos and Jensen slowly handed them back over. Jared watched them curiously, looking back and forth between Jensen and the detective. Collins flipped through the pictures and pulled out two of them. Jensen's heart sank. He could feel everything tumbling down around him, the new life he'd built here, the whole thing with Jared, everything. It had felt so promising, but Jensen could see it all receding in the distance with the simple act of Collins holding up Chris and Steve's pictures, waiting for Jensen's reaction.

Jensen glanced quickly over at Jared, and then looked almost pleadingly at Collins. "It was a long time ago. I wasn't sure," he lied.

Detective Collins just tilted his head and raised his eyebrows.

Jensen shrugged, defeated. "Okay, I knew that night in the parking garage." Jared made a small noise. Jensen couldn't bring himself to look over at him. "I had no idea what they wanted, what they were doing here," he said. "Chris didn't contact me until after…" he trailed off.

He felt Jared stiffen beside him. "I got a letter on Monday, too," Jensen said quietly. "Just the usual Chris-type threats. Keep my nose out or they'd kill me."

He turned to Jared, ignoring the presence of the two police officers. "I didn’t want you to know. I didn't know what to do." He looked up, his face open, showing Jared everything he was feeling, all the regret and fear of the past week.

Jared stared at him, hurt bright in his expressive eyes. Then he turned away without a word and said to Detective Collins, "Can I look at the pictures?"

"Sure. Officer Cassidy will show them to you, and we have a few more questions about the letter you received the other day." He nodded at Cassidy and she gently tugged on Jared's arm, pulling him out of the cubicle.

"Jared," Jensen said, but Jared didn't show any sign of having heard him. Jensen's shoulders slumped and he turned back to Collins, who was observing him with a curious tilt to his head. "What?" Jensen asked dully.

"Nothing." He pulled a small notebook out from an inside pocket of his trench coat. "I looked into your background, Dr. Ackles. I see you spent some time in Dallas five years ago."

"My whole life was in Dallas five years ago," Jensen flared. "And that son of a bitch fucked it all to hell and back. And got away with it. I managed to come here and get back on my feet, and now –" he broke off, too angry to continue.

Collins nodded dispassionately. "We'll get him, and Carlson, too." He paused. "I suggest you see what you can do about Mr. Padalecki. And Dr. Ackles," he added. "No more secrets."

Jensen nodded jerkily and left the room to go find Jared and find out just how pissed he was and just how much Christian Kane had fucked up his life again.

 

He didn't have far to look. Jared was in the middle of a shift and it wasn't as if he was going to just leave the hospital without a word to anyone. Besides, that was pretty dramatic, and Jared didn’t seem to be the dramatic type.

Chad was hovering outside the treatment room, seemingly waiting for Jensen. He looked pityingly at Jensen, and then just nodded his head and pointed in the direction of the portico outside the main Emergency Room doors.

Jensen gave him a weak smile of thanks and hightailed it out of there.

Jared was standing between two ambulances, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. Jensen approached him slowly, shuffling his feet on the pavement, giving Jared plenty of warning, giving him the opportunity to leave if he really didn't want to talk to Jensen.

Jensen was somewhat heartened when Jared stayed right where he was, although the rigidity of his posture pretty much screamed _stay away._

"Jared," Jensen said.

Jared didn't turn around. "Where you ever going to tell me? Or the cops? Or were you just going to let them kill me?"

"No," Jensen said, shocked. "Of course I wasn't going to let them kill you." He stopped, picking his words carefully. "Five years ago, I lived in Dallas. I had a boyfriend. I thought we were in love," he said, scorn in his voice at his own naïveté. Jared's shoulders twitched.

"He was stealing prescription pads from me, from my home and my office," Jensen continued. "He and his best friend. And mine," he added bitterly. "Riley changed his mind at the last minute, and they killed him." Jensen fought hard to keep the emotion out of his voice. Even after five years, he found it hard to believe that had ever happened. The memory of Riley's smile rose before him, and he blinked it away.

Jared turned slowly around, an expression of horror on his face. "Jensen," he whispered.

Jensen shook his head. "They took off that night. I had no idea, and they left it all for me to deal with. Chris and Steve just disappeared, and I'm damn lucky, really, because the cops liked me for Riley's murder," and here his voice did break, because how could they have ever thought that he could kill his best friend? "But they didn't have any proof, because I didn't fucking do it, and I moved here and started my life over."

Jensen looked at Jared, holding his gaze. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I recognized Chris in the parking lot that night, and Steve, too. I just couldn't tell you, tell anyone. I didn't want it to start all over." He shrugged ruefully. "I guess I was just scared."

Jared opened his mouth, but Jensen really didn't want to hear whatever Jared had to say. It probably wouldn't be good. Jensen held up his hand to stop him, and said again, "I'm sorry. I know you're pissed, and I understand if you don't want –" He broke off and shook his head. "I'll see you around."

He turned to go, and Jared let him, watched Jensen walk away without a word.

 

Jensen called Tom and told him he was going home, and that the Trauma service was all his for the next twenty-four hours.

Three hours later he was parked on his couch, untouched pizza at his side, warm bottle of beer in his hand. The TV remote was in his other hand, but he had no idea what he was watching. The picture flickered in front his eyes as he stared sightlessly at the wide screen, the voices from whatever show was on just a jumble of sounds.

He didn't blame Jared. Jensen had fucked up; it was as simple as that. Lies were not the best foundation to build a relationship on, and that was something Jensen knew from painful experience.

He'd only known Jared for a short time, but in that time he'd come to appreciate Jared's kindness and sense of humor, his professionalism and compassion at work and, of course, his smoking hot body.

Jensen thought they could have really had something, given the chance. But now it was all fucked to hell.

The knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts, and he almost dropped his untouched beer. He _did_ drop the remote _and_ knock the pizza box off the arm of the couch where it had been balanced precariously, waiting for him to find his appetite.

"Shit," he muttered, as he got up to answer the door. To his surprise, Jared was standing on his front porch, looking serious but no longer furious and betrayed. Jensen opened the door and Jared shuffled his feet.

"Hey."

Jensen just stared open-mouthed up at him, like the idiot he was, and he thought he could see the tiniest twitch of Jared's lips.

"Can I come in?" Jared asked.

"Shit, of course you can, come on, come in, come in," Jensen babbled, backing away from the door and gesturing wildly for Jared to come in.

"Do you want a beer? I was just having some piz –" Jensen broke off, seeing the pizza box upside down on the floor. "So, beer?" he said brightly.

Jared nodded and seated himself on one end of the couch. Jensen had a flashback of him sprawled back against the cushions while Jensen worked his way down his gorgeous chest with his tongue, and he hastily cleared his throat and headed to the kitchen for beer.

He had a feeling they were going to need them.

Jared didn't say anything, just took the beer with a nod of thanks and tipped his head back to swallow. Jensen couldn't help the small sound that escaped him when presented with the long line of Jared's throat.

"What?"

"Nothing," Jensen said. "I didn't say anything." There was another pause while Jensen settled himself on the other end of the couch. "So…"

"So. Kane called me. I didn't talk to him, but there was a message on my machine when I got home from the hospital."

Jensen choked on his beer. "Seriously? That son of a bitch. What did he say? Did he threaten you again?" Jensen was halfway to his feet, but Jared waved at him to sit back down again. He did, saying, "I'm gonna kill him."

"No, you're not," Jared said firmly. "You're going to let the cops do their job and arrest him. Detective Collins says they're closing in on them."

"Yeah?" Jensen felt almost light-headed with relief at this bit of news.

"Yeah," Jared smiled. "I called him when I heard Kane's message." Jared paused, looking down at his hands. "Kane said you told him to leave me alone, that you offered to get the prescription pads for him if he'd leave me out of it." He lifted his eyes to Jensen's. "I – I don't know what to say to that."

Jensen snorted. "Christian did. He laughed in my face – well, in my ear – told me to go fuck myself."

"Bastard." Jared scooted closer to Jensen and wrapped a big hand around the back of his neck, pulling him close until their foreheads were touching. "I'm still pissed at you, Jen. You lied to me. And it was dangerous."

"I know," Jensen said hoarsely. "I'm sorry."

Jared kissed him gently, his lips soft and forgiving on Jensen's mouth. Jensen closed his eyes and kissed him back.

For the first time since he saw Christian in the parking garage, Jensen could breathe.

 

"Yo, Dr. Ackles, my man," Chad called from the nursing station as Jensen rounded the corner. Chad was, as usual, trying to balance more charts than any sane person would think was reasonable.

" _Yo_ , Dr. Murray? Really?" Jensen automatically reached for Chad's coffee, which tottered on the top of the stack of charts, but a long arm intercepted him before he could get to it.

"Now, Dr. Ackles, let poor Dr. Murray keep his coffee." Jared smiled blindingly at Jensen, and Jensen couldn't have stopped his answering smile if his life depended on it.

Chad snickered.

"Be nice, Chad, or I'll let him drink it." Jared held out a steaming hot cup of coffee in Jensen's direction. "Here, this has only got one sugar in it." His smile dimmed by a couple of watts, becoming more of a private smile, just for Jensen.

Chad cleared his throat. "Thank you, Nurse Padalecki. I don't know what it's like to drink my own coffee in the morning." He stood there while Jensen and Jared smiled at each other like idiots, ignoring him completely. "Yes, well, Dr. Murray," he said, "Why don't you go check out the guy in Room 3, the one who fell off his roof?"

When no one responded, Chad answered himself. "That's an excellent idea. I'll just go do that. Someone has to think of the poor patients around this place." He wandered off with his charts.

Jensen shook himself slightly. "I'll be right with you, Dr. Murray," he called after Chad. He tipped his coffee at Jared in thanks. "And I'll see you at home," he said, attempting a leer, not very successfully, judging by Jared's grin.

"Count on it," Jared said, slinging his stethoscope around his neck in what could only be described as a very seductive manner. "Now go save someone's life."

The End


End file.
